


Your Ghosts and Mine

by prototyping



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri Week 2019, Dimitri is a good and loving boy and i cry for him every day, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), one-sided lowkey pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21887398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prototyping/pseuds/prototyping
Summary: He hoped she wouldn’t ask if it ever became easier. He didn’t want to have to tell her no, she would always remember her father with the sting of guilt, that her happy memories would be forever tainted by the final, most bitter one of him she had.[Done for the prompt “Nightmares” for Dimitri Week 2019.]
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 8
Kudos: 134





	Your Ghosts and Mine

“Professor?”

Byleth’s eyes were heavy as they rose to meet his. There were shadows of exhaustion underneath them, but no discoloration or puffiness to say she had cried recently. Dimitri watched as she struggled to focus on him, her gaze blank and dark with only a flickering sign of life as she looked slowly over his face.

He could tell the exact moment that she shook loose of her thoughts and returned to the present: her small shoulders tensed and relaxed again, her breath caught, and then she looked away with a soft frown.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I’m…”

“No, I should be the one apologizing. It was rash of me to think you would be up for this so soon.” He frowned, irritated by his carelessness. “I understand if you’d rather be alone.”

Byleth shook her head. “It’s fine. I appreciate the invitation.” Even her small, tired smile was radiant, especially in the gloom of such an overcast day. “I want to stay.”

Despite his doubts, Dimitri didn’t argue. If she changed her mind, she would surely say so. He watched her hands wrap around her teacup, the contents untouched and cooled by now, and then looked again at her exhausted face. He was doing nothing short of staring, but he found it hard to look away. The tired lines around her eyes, the tight press of her lips, her sagging shoulders, the way her gaze would fix on a random spot and glaze over…

He knew those signs well. He hated seeing them in her.

Suddenly his pulse doubled to pound loudly in his ears, hot and furious and screaming death for the people responsible, angry at his own idleness and failure to protect her from his same pain－

His left fist tightened imperceptibly, digging his fingertips briefly into his palm and then loosening again. Both the pain and the rage slowly ebbed away.

Their usual topics of conversation weren’t exactly appropriate for the occasion. The other professors were covering most of her classes and he hadn’t seen her at the training grounds, so there was nothing new in that regard. Academics was probably the last thing on her mind, and smalltalk would be superficial.

He opted for honesty. “Have you been sleeping well?”

Byleth’s subtle flinch made him regret the question immediately, but he bit back the urge to try and retract it. If she wanted to discuss it, he would give her the opportunity. If not, he wouldn’t bring it up again.

“I don’t mean to pry－”

“I haven’t,” she answered, ignoring his remark. She glanced up at him for a long moment, an almost calculating look, before dropping her eyes back to her tea. “I’ve been dreaming about it.” Her voice lowered even further. “That day. Sometimes it plays out exactly the way it happened, and I can’t do anything about it. And sometimes...”

When she didn’t finish, Dimitri guessed softly, “Sometimes it’s different, but you still fail to stop it.”

She looked at him again with a mild surprise that quickly faded. “Yes. Even when I know what’s coming, I usually can’t do anything differently. If I do, it doesn’t matter.” Her eyebrows came together as she breathed heavily through her nose. “It’s strange. I don’t dream a lot. When I do, it’s always about things I don’t understand－scenes that feel like they’re from someone else’s memory, or…” She disregarded that thought and went on, “It’s never been about something… close to me before. Or this constant.”

She withdrew her hands from the table to cross her arms, rubbing them as though cold.

 _It’s never affected me like this,_ the gesture seemed to say.

Dimitri had always been sensitive to others’ sadness, but he couldn’t recall ever understanding someone else’s pain so clearly, or feeling so much sympathy that it was a literal, sharp ache in his chest. He knew that any words of comfort he offered would be just that－words－and at best she would be touched by his concern but no better having received them. For a moment he stayed silent, knowing nothing he said would banish her nightmares. He could only hope that she was more fortunate than himself and would see them fade over time.

The weather was cooler than usual thanks to the unrelenting rain of the past week, the monastery grounds still soggy and unappealing. The two of them were alone at the collection of tables, although the din of the dining hall and the echo of passing voices were a constant backdrop of noise. As they sat there, uncertain what to say, those sounds suddenly weren’t loud enough.

“Professor,” he said at last, haltingly, “if those dreams keep you awake again, and you want… if you would like some company, please don’t hesitate to find me. I’m afraid I can’t do much other than offer an ear, but… if you decide that’s what you need, I’ll be there.”

With a grim half-smile, Byleth ran a finger along the edge of her saucer. “Thanks, Dimitri. But making your schoolwork suffer isn’t fair.”

“It’s alright. I’ve actually been having some late nights recently, so it would be no bother.” He narrowly dodged the glance she shot him by sipping at his tea. He had no desire to go into those details if he could avoid it.

Her expression softened, the closest he’d seen it come to normal in far too long. “I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Dimitri didn’t try to sleep that night. His temples began to throb halfway through dinner and by the time he returned to his quarters, the headache had spread down the back of his skull and he knew rest wasn’t coming soon, if at all. After Dedue took his leave, Dimitri waited a few minutes to be sure he wasn’t returning, and then took the chance to slip out and away.

He wandered past the first-floor quarters. He would probably resign himself to the library for another few hours－might as well make himself useful－but for now he was content with the silence and stillness of the night. It didn’t help with the headache at all, but it gave him something to appreciate, something else to focus on besides the pressure digging into his teeth and the backs of his eyes.

He would have walked right past Byleth if not for the light peeking out through her slightly open door. He recognized her small, hunched form on the porch and stopped; she sensed him and raised her head.

Their long stares spoke for them. Dimitri saw the glassy tint in her eyes, how tightly her arms were wound around her knees, her contemplative frown. Perhaps Byleth noticed his distracted expression, how slow and purposeless his steps had been, the discomfort in his posture.

Neither of them pointed out the obvious. Neither of them asked.

Neither of them said anything, but eventually Byleth relaxed her arms and dropped her legs down, a small but obvious shift from reclusive to inviting. Dimitri sat beside her.

The silence was a simple, understanding one. As time passed and the professor didn’t speak up, Dimitri began to expect that she would simply retire when his company was no longer needed. However long that took, he was prepared to wait.

“It’s worse at night,” she said suddenly. He watched her place a hand over her chest, her eyes fixed unseeing in the grass. She didn’t sound sad or angry. Just confused. “I’m not sure why, but it feels… heavier.”

Dimitri’s expression softened. He hadn’t asked before, but it was obvious that this was her first time losing someone close to her. That helpless frustration from before began to simmer in his gut again.

“I think it’s the silence,” he answered grimly. “The darkness. During the day… you don’t forget, but there are often distractions that keep you from sinking into those thoughts completely. You have sunlight and warmth… and life around you... to remind you that you’re still alive.” That last line came out rough, a little forced. It wasn’t a comfort as far as Dimitri was concerned, but for her－someone who deserved to live for herself, not for the dead－he hoped it was. “The night isn’t as kind.”

Byleth hummed, a neutral sound that he couldn’t read. He hoped she wouldn’t ask if it ever became easier. He didn’t want to have to tell her no, she would always remember her father with the sting of guilt, that her happy memories would be forever tainted by the final, most bitter one of him she had.

She gripped the edge of the porch, shifting her weight as she stretched her long legs out in front of her. Most of her usual clothes were gone; she wore only shorts and a close-fitting, short-sleeved top. Belatedly, Dimitri realized how underdressed she was, that much of her skin was showing, and he momentarily faltered as he wondered whether he’d assumed too much in joining her. She didn’t seem put off, but she didn’t seem like the type who was easily embarrassed, either.

Before he could dwell on that thought for too long, she spoke again. “My father once told me… that losing my mother was the hardest thing he’d ever gone through. I didn’t understand it then－I didn’t even know what it meant to be sad. Now… I wonder how he was able to talk about her and smile like he did.” She tilted her head back, her absent stare shifting to the cloudy night sky. “If I even think about trying to smile, it…” She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together tight.

There was grief etched in her face and woven in her unsteady voice, but her tone still sounded so matter-of-fact. She wasn’t looking for sympathy. She was talking out her feelings, trying to untangle this mess of new emotions to understand it all.

She was trying to apply logic where there really was none. Perhaps that was all she knew how to do.

Physically speaking, Dimitri wasn’t naturally affectionate. His clumsy strength aside, there hadn’t been many chances for it in recent years; even among his closest friends, there was little opportunity or desire for gestures of that sort.

Even so, as he watched Byleth barely hold her broken pieces together, isolated in her remorse despite his company, the only thing that seemed _right_ at that moment was to reach for her hand. He did so without thinking, but stopped himself at the last second and redirected the touch to her wrist.

It was as gentle as he could possibly make it. Her eyes fluttered open and she glanced at him, but she didn’t withdraw or look offended. He held the look.

“Regretfully, I didn’t know Jeralt very well,” he said with an earnest frown. “But if I may be so bold… I believe the reason he could smile when talking about such things… was you, Professor.”

Her expression didn’t budge, but he felt a subtle twitch in her arm and didn’t miss the way her eyes seemed to search his. Dimitri didn’t look away, even when her cheeks flushed with emotion and her eyes turned glassy, nor when she closed them with a sharp, sniffling inhale.

When she opened them again a minute later, she kept her gaze down. “...You’re not wearing gloves,” she observed. Her voice was a thick whisper. Before he could think of a response, she settled her hand atop his. “Your hands are cold.”

And hers was warm, surprisingly so. Dimitri drew in a breath to reply, but came up short on words as he considered the strange but comfortable sensation. He realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone skin-to-skin like this.

“Yes,” he finally managed, “I suppose they are.” He thought that would be the end of it, but to his further surprise Byleth took his hand between both of hers and into her lap. She gripped his fingers gently. Dimitri glanced between her face and their joined hands, but the more the warmth of her skin seeped into his, the more he found himself really _looking_ at her.

Her expression was focused, as though heating up his hand was a task she needed to fulfill. Maybe this was her means of distraction, of shoving her tears and everything else back below the surface. As much as he wanted to assure her that she didn’t have to, he didn’t interrupt.

He also noticed the few strands of hair that wisped across her cheek, the way the corner of her mouth tightened slightly in concentration. He counted a couple scars on her arms, her knuckles. He considered how much smaller she looked without her armor and outer clothes, deceptively vulnerable compared to the invincible force that she was in battle.

“I appreciate what you said.” Her voice broke into his thoughts. She looked at him. “You’re very kind, Dimitri.”

He smiled, but it was a grim, apologetic look. He wondered if she’d still thought him _kind_ when she saw his behavior in Remire Village. “As often as I have something to say, I regret that I can’t do more than that.” Lightly, he gripped her hand back. “Especially now.”

_Especially for you._

“You’ve given me something to think about,” she replied, her voice steadier. “I hate to say it, but this probably won’t be the first time I feel like this.” Her fingers tightened, and then relaxed again. “And if you’re right, then I probably need to find my own reason to smile. Like he did.”

Dimitri nodded and this time his smile was more genuine. If he had helped her even slightly, he was glad beyond words. “I hope you do, Professor.”

She hummed again, thoughtfully, as she glanced down at their hands. “Maybe I already have,” she said softly.

And then she did smile, and it was nothing short of beautiful. It was brief－one could have blinked and missed it－and it was still weighed down with grief and tight with the pain squeezing her inside, but it was also grateful, warm, and hopeful. It reached her eyes and suddenly they were once again as deep as Dimitri knew them to be, their lifeless sheen abruptly fading.

For the instant that Dimitri stared, enraptured by the look, his headache went numb. The murmur of angry voices in the back of his mind, which had grown louder as the night went on and his exhaustion built, beckoning him eagerly to sleep where they might torment him all the more－they all fell silent.

Just for an instant.

Then he remembered himself, realized he had started to lean towards her while staring into her eyes and holding her hand, and the moment ended.

He straightened up with a polite smile and a quiet laugh. Her grip had loosened, so he carefully took his hand back and settled his tight fists on his thighs. “Is that so? I’m glad.”

Playing it off wasn’t difficult－he’d managed well enough at the Goddess Tower－but the pang in his chest was equal parts guilt for slipping so far and the selfish regret of not letting himself fall all the way.

Either Byleth missed the signs or she chose not to comment. She only hummed lightly, and as her expression returned to neutral she leaned back on her hands to resume staring skyward. Dimitri didn’t dare let his gaze linger, but he thought she looked more relaxed. Her body language still spoke of tension and exhausted unease, but her face, while distracted, gave the impression that her thoughts were in a better place than before.

They returned to their silence. The next time Dimitri stole a glimpse at her, her eyes were closed and her head leaned heavily on her shoulder. More than once he saw her twitch as she started to nod off.

“Professor,” he said finally, “if you would like to rest, I can stay out－” He turned and found her lying on her back, her chest rising and falling with silent, heavy breaths. Her face looked truly peaceful now; for a while she would be free from herself, and that thought was enough to convince Dimitri not to disturb her.

He couldn’t simply leave her here, either. Even if he had reason to believe the monastery grounds were totally safe－and he certainly didn’t now－it still wouldn’t sit well with him. He considered carrying her back inside, but he had neither the permission to touch her nor to enter her quarters, and he didn’t exactly have a pressing reason to make assumptions. The odds were good, unfortunately, that a nightmare would wake her soon enough, anyway.

In the end he detached the cape from his shoulder and draped it over her, and then moved to sit in the grass with his back to her. Even as he relaxed, head hanging and eyes closed, he knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.

He let his tired thoughts wander. The usual dark memories were there, of course－they were never far away－but for the first time in a while he was able to think about Byleth with more than just the gut-wrenching sense of having failed her.

He wondered how earnest her words had been－whether she really considered him to be a glimpse of light in the darkness she currently wandered, or it had simply been her exhaustion and grief speaking. He wondered if, in his desperation to make a difference, he’d simply imagined that smile.

While he wanted to be optimistic, he reprimanded himself for doing so. Surely he carried too much darkness to guide her anywhere. He would serve best as her weapon for revenge, as he had promised, and nothing more.

It didn’t really matter either way, Dimitri decided. He would be there for her as much as he was able, in any and every way she needed, regardless of what she did or didn’t consider him to be.

With that firmly decided, he cleared as many of his thoughts from his head as he could and focused on the night around them. Listening for anything, just in case.

Byleth slept a dreamless sleep until morning.


End file.
